A Storm from the North
by Zandra Celene Frasier
Summary: American violinist Cynthia North feels confident about her audition in Tokyo for the indie band Black Diamond. That is, until she finds out she's going against Ikuto Tsukiyomi. Will she befriend the black cat or will they walk away as enemies?
1. A Mysterious Bluehaired Boy

Greetings and salutations, everyone! As you all know, this is my first fanfiction. Ever since I first discovered the wonderful world of anime, _Shugo Chara!_ has been very near and dear to my heart. For all of you who are wondering (because you didn't read my profile - shame on you!), I do play the violin. I've been playing for 5 and 1/2 years, and I have a poster of Ikuto up in my room where I can see it when I practice. Half the time, I'm mad at him for being so good, and half the time I'm inspired to try harder so I might be as good as him one day!

I have a feeling this story could go on for quite some time. But that also depends on you readers! Please, R & R!!!! ...please?.....anyone there?... just kidding. I know you love me, and I hope you'll love this story!!! Enjoy!!!!

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It was gone. My beautiful, hand-knitted scarf had been stolen away by Old Man Winter's icy claws. Of course I had tried to chase it, but when it snagged on the front of a tour bus, I gave it up. It made a pretty good hood ornament, and besides, I had a very important audition to get to and no idea where I was. I couldn't believe I had given up my mild Virginia winter for this. A huge city full of weirdoes where it was zero degrees plus wind chill. And it was only December.

With a thirty-story building on every block, I felt the entire city was always above me. Of course, I needed only to look at the street to change my mind. Totally by chance, I stumbled upon the one skyscraper I was looking for. I bent down and patted the bundle I was carrying. "Hold on, baby. We're almost there." A quick glance in the building's mirror-like siding told me my hair was an utter mess. But then, so was everyone else's in this place. Even as I tried to pat my brown frizz back into curls, a guy with hair that made him look like the Statue of Liberty dashed by on a bike. I guessed he probably had enough green dye and hair gel on his head to turn Tokyo into Oz.

I took a deep breath and marched in, re-reading the name on the glass, automatic-sliding doors. Easter. I had lost count of the times I had wondered where that name had come from.

"You must be Cynthia South-san," a man wearing a suit and dark glasses said in Japanese.

"It's _North. _Cynthia North," I corrected him, coughing to cover my laughter.

"Forgive me_,_ North-san," the man said. "Welcome. Hoshina-san is in a recording session right now, so you'll have to wait in the lounge. Let me take that for you." He gestured to the case in my left hand.

"No, thank you," I said, I'm afraid, a little coldly. My violin always stayed with me. Always.

"Very well," he said, still hiding his expression behind those blackened lenses. "Follow me, Cynthia-san."

I was quite relieved when the shady man left me. I plopped down on the couch and opened my case to check the hygrometer. "Good," I muttered. It was back up to 45 now that we were in a heated building. The cold was not doing my violin any good, that was for sure. I plucked each string quietly, tuning completely by ear, trusting in my perfect pitch. As I picked up my bow and started warming up, I let my mind wander.

I wondered how my parents were doing back home. But of course, that was a silly thing to think about. They had never needed me. My mother was a successful painter, and my father was the music director at my school – one of the most prestigious private academies in Virginia. In fact, before I was born, my uncles betted on whether I would be an artist or a musician. As soon as I started grade school, my parents enrolled me in art classes, piano lessons, and the gifted-and-talented program. I honestly feel sorry for them, because even after months of lessons, my paintings looked like a two-year-old had done them, and when I played the piano it sounded like thirteen hellcats had been unmuzzled at the same instant. Needless to say, I was kicked out of the gifted-and-talented program very quickly. Over the years, I tried drama, ballet, cake decorating, creative writing, and everything remotely artistic. My parents refused to admit that it was possible that their child was talentless, so they told everyone I would grow out of my artistic awkwardness, and that one day I would find _something_ I could do. I, on the other hand, knew I had no hidden talent.

My father was more determined than my mother was. In my first year of junior high, he insisted that I take up the violin so I might have a sliver of hope toward playing second fiddle in the school orchestra. Once he promised this would be the last thing either of my parents made me try, I reluctantly agreed. I don't know what went on inside me, but as soon as I set my bow against the string, I knew I would be playing the violin for the rest of my life. It was like love at first screech.

However, there was no way on earth could I tell my parents that. Not after so many years of spurning their eager shoves toward artistic ability. Some of the things I had tried before the violin, I had really, truly sucked at. Others, I had just hated with such a fiery passion that I had acted like I was horrible at them so my parents would let me quit. Take cake decorating. It bored me to tears, so I had ruined a few frosting flowers. On the other hand, I couldn't have coaxed a good story out of a pen if I wanted to.

But this was new for me. Yes, I sounded horrible when I played, but I wanted – needed – to keep going. After a few months of struggling with my violin, even my parents were trying to get me to quit, not to mention my instructor, who was so tired of hearing me squeak "Twinkle, twinkle, little star" that he had started wearing earplugs to my lessons. So without their knowing, I found a new, more patient teacher and continued with lessons after school, while my parents thought I was staying after class to study. At home, I practiced every spare moment I had, shut up in my room where no one but I could hear. And in the next four years, somewhere along the line, I got good at it. Really good.

Mere months ago, I found out about the audition for a violinist in the indie band "Black Diamond." As far as my parents knew, I had suddenly developed a desperate interest in my school's study-abroad program and begged to join and go on their upcoming trip to Tokyo. I didn't know when I would come out with my passion for the violin. Maybe not until I was famous. I did know that joining this band was going to be my way of showing my parents – and the world – what I could do and how far I had gotten on my own, against all odds. I had to ace this audition and get the job. I just had to…was I nervous? I was _never_ nervous. Why was I…

"Mendelssohn's violin concerto."

My bow screeched to a stop when I jumped at the sudden, deep voice behind me. I clutched my violin and slowly looked up and found the upside-down face of a blue-haired boy leaning over me. So _that_ was why I was nervous.

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So what do you think? I already have the next few chapters ready to upload, but I will be eager to write more if I get some reviews! Thanks everyone for reading!


	2. Son of Aruto

Hi again! I have gotten one review (thank you Adelaide Pitman!). And I know the first chapter was pretty short, so I decided to go ahead and post the second chapter. I know that just because people aren't reviewing doesn't mean there's no one reading it. But please, if you're enjoying my story leave a review!! I forgot to mention this in the first chapter, but I don't own _Shugo Chara!_ or any of the characters in it - I only own this original storyline. Again, PLEASE R&R!!!!! I will love you forever if you do! Well, here goes.

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_Recap:_

_I just had to…was I nervous? I was never nervous. Why was I…_

_"Mendelssohn's violin concerto."_

_My bow screeched to a stop when I jumped at the sudden, deep voice behind me. I clutched my violin and slowly looked up and found the upside-down face of a blue-haired boy leaning over me. So _that _was why I was nervous._

* * *

"You played it flawlessly," he commented. He leaned closer and added, "That's a beautiful instrument you have, with a tone like silk."

I still said nothing as he walked around to the other side of the coffee table and sat on the couch across from me. He set his violin case on the table. I watched him closely as he slouched into his seat. Just going by his voice, I had guessed he was in his twenties, but now I could see that he was much younger. He looked about my age, but he must have been a foot taller. And what was with that blue hair?

"You're watching me like a hawk," he said bluntly.

"Well, you sneaked up on me like a cat," I fired back. "I've been told to watch creeps closely."

He chuckled. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I was so impressed by your playing that I had to get closer to listen."

I smiled. "Normally I don't take kindly to guys who sneak up on me and try to flatter me without introducing themselves," I said. "But I'll make an exception, since you are a fellow violinist. I'm Cynthia North."

"Ah," he said. "North-san, the American. I've been told about you. Your Japanese is not nearly as bad as I would have expected."

I mentally wiped my brow as I surreptitiously drew my Japanese-English dictionary from my purse. Just incase. "Thanks_,_" I said. "You pronounce my name like a Tokyo native, so I'll try to do the same for you. That is, if you ever tell me your name."

He laughed quietly and introduced himself without bothering to extend his hand. "I'm Ikuto Tsukiyomi."

My eyes opened wider as a gear clicked in my mind, making me recognize his last name. "Are you the son of Aruto Tsukiyomi-sensei?"

Ikuto tried to hide his surprise, but I caught the quick, involuntary widening and re-narrowing of his dark blue eyes. "You know of my father, then?" he said off-handedly.

"Of course," I replied, as if I had known of the Tsukiyomi clan for my whole life and not just discovered them in the past month as I crammed the Japanese language and culture into my skull. The Internet article I had found made Aruto's fame and fortune, followed by his sudden disappearance, seem like a fairy tale. His two children had only been mentioned in passing.

"I bet I could take some great pointers from you," I said, smiling. "Tsukiyomi-sama's story seemed almost unreal when I heard it. And it's been so long since he disappeared…" I stopped when I saw the hard look in Ikuto's eyes. I had thought this would be something I could use to get Ikuto to open up to me, but clearly he was still upset at his father for abandoning him. "Anyway," I stuttered, trying to recover. "I thought you'd be older."

Some of the hardness left Ikuto's cerulean eyes and he allowed a tiny smile. "I'm a third-year student at Seiyo High."

"Really? That's the school I'll be going to. That is, if I get this job."

Ikuto sat up and crossed his legs. "So you're here to audition, too?"

"Too?" I squeaked. I was going up against the son of Aruto Tsukiyomi-sama? I could kiss my job goodbye.

Ikuto smirked. "I think you'll be a worthy opponent for me. However, I must warn you, the judge is very biased."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Ikuto!"

We both turned to face the loud voice coming from down the hall.

"I didn't know you were here!"

Utau Hoshina-san, one of Japan's top pop idols, threw herself at Ikuto in a very undignified manner. He dodged, and Utau slammed face-first into the sofa.

Ikuto chuckled. "I can figure out your hugging pattern."

Utau quickly got up and dusted herself off. "Jeez, you're so mean."

"You're done recording?" Ikuto asked.

"Yeah, I just finished," Utau answered, sitting as close as possible to Ikuto and wrapping her arms around him. "I'm so happy that can sing with your violin!" she giggled.

"It's Easter's orders," Ikuto said grimly. "And besides, the auditions haven't been held yet. It looks like I'll have some stiff competition," he added, almost smiling at me.

When that small fragment of Ikuto's attention was turned away from her, Utau seemed to notice me for the first time. "Oh. Who are you?"

"Cynthia North_,_" I said.

"From America," Ikuto added.

"Oh, yeah. They told me about you," Utau said, scowling. "Sanjo-san said you can go in for your audition whenever you're ready. First door on your left."

"Thank you_,_" I said, packing up my violin and shoving my dictionary back into my purse.

"I thought _you_ were holding the auditions," Ikuto said.

"No, Sanjo-san said it would be unfair," Utau pouted.

"I wonder why?" Ikuto muttered.

I stood up, ready to head to my audition.

"Hey, can I kiss you?" Utau asked.

I slowed my movements a little, waiting to see what would happen and wondering if the rest of Japan knew about Utau's obsessive crush.

"No," Ikuto said, with the straightest face I'd ever seen.

"What?" Utau squealed. "But I haven't seen you in so long."

"No," Ikuto said again.

"Just one on the cheek?" Utau begged, puckering up.

"I said _no_. Hey, stop!"

"Hey, Ikuto?" I said, hoping to help him escape from Utau's overeager clutches.

Utau stopped trying to kiss him to growl at me. "Don't use his name so freely!"

"You just did," I muttered.

"That's because I'm his girlfriend."

"No, you're not," Ikuto said sternly.

Utau pounced on top of Ikuto, knocking him onto the floor. My view was now blocked by the coffee table, but I could still hear the smooching sounds and cries of protest that followed. The spell was broken when I felt myself blushing. Scolding myself for staring, I turned tail and dashed into the audition room.

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So...? What did you think? Anyone, anyone? You know you want to review, and make me feel like I have fans. *wink*


	3. A Cat from the Darkness

Here I am at the third chapter already!! I keep telling myself to wait until I get more reviews to post anymore, but I can't help it!

"That's cause you have a big head now that you're actually publishing your fanfiction."

Aaah! Ikuto-kun, how long have you been listening?!?

"*snicker* Long enough."

*sigh.* ANYWAY...Thanks to **Adelaide Pitman** for keeping the reviews coming and to **Laser684** for adding this story to your favorites! _Arigato gozaimasu!_

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_Recap: _

_Utau stopped trying to kiss him to growl at me. "Don't use his name so freely!"_

_"You just did," I muttered._

_"That's because I'm his girlfriend."_

_"No, you're not," Ikuto said sternly._

_Utau pounced on top of Ikuto, knocking him onto the floor. My view was now blocked by the coffee table, but I could still hear the smooching sounds and cries of protest that followed. The spell was broken when I felt myself blushing. Scolding myself for staring, I turned tail and dashed into the audition room._

* * *

Catching my breath after my mad dash, I slowly turned around. The audition room was quiet and dark, with only one section of the room clearly lighted. I was afraid to send my voice out into the darkness, perhaps thinking it might get lost and never come back.

"Welcome, North-san," said a voice from the shadows. "I'm Yukari Sanjo." As she said her name, she slid into the piercing light.

"Thank you_, _Sanjo-san. I'm honored to be here," I said, squinting to block the reflected light from her stark white dress shirt.

"You may set your case here," she said, gesturing to a half-lit table beside her. "Begin whenever you're ready."

Suddenly remembering my Japanese etiquette, I bowed slightly before opening my case. The bow slid easily from its place and the chinrest still felt warm when I set it against my face. Sanjo-san took the shadowed chair behind the table as I stepped into the light, playing each open string. I paused for a moment, tuning the E up a quarter-step. In my head, I heard the beginning line of my audition piece – a little-known sonata by Beethoven. I carefully placed my finger on the A string and lifted my bow. Taking a deep breath, I put on a focused but confident and relaxed expression.

I lowered my bow, and as it flew across the string, my fingers danced back and forth, creating the beautiful melody out of cold, sound-free air. And my violin sang.

About ten seconds into the piece, I realized with horror that what my violin was singing was not Beethoven's sonata, but the piece I had played earlier as a warm-up – Mendelssohn's concerto! I couldn't stop now, or I'd look like a fool. But could I go on with such an elementary, over-performed piece? Striving to keep any emotion from reaching my face, I gritted my teeth. I would have to go on.

I tried to focus all my attention on my playing, but it was nearly impossible. I had played Mendelssohn's concerto so often that I knew it strictly by muscle memory and never thought about it. And now my head was filled most annoyingly with that blue-haired kid.

"You played it flawlessly. I was so impressed that I had to get closer to listen. It looks like I'll have some stiff competition."

_Snap out of it!_ I wanted to yell at myself. Was it really because of Ikuto's smooth words that I had made such a foolish mistake? It didn't matter now. I focused my vision on the place where my bow met the string. I couldn't afford any more mistakes. My future was on the line here. I needed this job, which meant I needed to beat Ikuto Tsukiyomi. Whatever I had thought of him before no longer mattered; now he was my opponent – the enemy.

Since the audition had a five-minute time limit, I needed to stop after the first movement. However, I knew that ending there wouldn't leave a lasting impression. I needed Mendelssohn's fiery last words – the end of the last movement. I visualized the last page of sheet music, and just as my bow slowed, designating the first movement's end, a flick of my wrist sent it sputtering back to life again. My bow was bouncing, flying, barely skimming the strings long enough to leave sound in its wake. My fingers could barely keep up, tapping on the fingerboard like miniature hammers going at sixty miles an hour. My entire body flowed with the music, a wild rapid of song sweeping me away. I felt perspiration drip from my forehead, and my throat became dry as my breath came in and out more often, begging for more moisture. This was it – the last line. I could see it on the page. I could watch the notes dancing up and down the staff, racing each other to the double bar line. At last, my violin sounded the final note, and I lifted my bow with a flourish.

Slowly, my violin returned to rest position under my arm. It was no longer an extension of my body, but rather, a separate entity. I bowed, closing my eyes, and when I opened them I was no longer paddling for dear life in a sea of music. As I stood under the spotlight in the audition room of the Easter building somewhere in Tokyo, the sound of Sanjo-san's lonely applause replaced the rushing waves and resounding melodies in my ears.

"Brava, North-san. With that song choice, I doubted you could impress me. But I have never heard Mendelssohn's concerto played more masterfully."

I smile broke over my face. Quickly, I bowed again. "Thank you very much_,_ Sanjo-san."

"Tell me," she said, still hiding in the darkness, "what motivated you to become so advanced?"

I paused for a moment, stepping a little out of the light. After a moment's reflection, I had my answer. "For a long time, I thought it was to prove something. But now I know that it's because I love the violin. Even if no one ever hears me, I'll keep playing my music for the rest of my life." Instantly, I scolded myself. Waxing poetic was on my list of how _not_ to get a job.

Nervous, but trying not to show it, I watched Sanjo-san's outline take shape as my eyes adjusted to the darkness. She was smiling. "Well spoken," Sanjo-san said, crossing her legs. "But I certainly hope you'll keep on playing where others can hear you, even if it's not here."

I nodded and smiled stiffly. _Crap!_ That line was a sure sign that I wasn't getting the part. She was clearly preparing me for disappointment.

"I have heard Ikuto play before," Sanjo-san continued, "and I believe I have made my decision. But for the sake of formalities, Ikuto-kun, please go ahead and play for us."

Wordlessly, Ikuto advanced from the pitch-blackness and brushed past me without even lowering his gaze to make eye contact. Setting his case on the table next to mine, he looked as stoic as a sculpture. I marched up to the table and stood next to him, carefully putting my instrument away. As I latched the case, I pointedly looked up at him, hoping for some kind of acknowledgement, but receiving none.

"North-san, you may sit by me," Sanjo-san said, gesturing to the empty chair beside her.

"Thank you," I said and gratefully took the seat, hoping neither of them would notice that my knees had suddenly started to shake. I was ticked at Ikuto, but tried not to show it. What had happened to the friendly, smiling attitude he had had ten minutes ago? Not only was he sneaky like a cat, but he was also as fickle as one. And why had Sanjo-san asked me to stay? Was it just because Ikuto heard my audition, or did she hope I could learn by hearing him play? Was I that inferior to him?

I set my case on the floor beside me and tried to relax as Ikuto Tsukiyomi tuned his violin. But at that moment, waiting for the first notes of his song, I felt like a jumpy little mouse waiting for the cat to strike.

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What did you think? I love writing descriptions, so this chapter was really fun for me. However it's really difficult to put into words the feeling of becoming one with the music you're playing. You just have to be a true musician to understand it. You understand me, right, Ikuto-kun?

"I understand that you're annoying."

Ugh. He's hopeless, but I love him. And I promise there will be more interaction with him in the next chapter!!!


	4. Black Diamonds Shine Brighter

Hey everyone! For all of you who didn't read "Into the Window" (which you should go read right now *cough, cough*), the long break between chapters was due to the fact that I wanted to play around with this story a bit to see if I could take it in a better direction. So now I'm finally back from my trek through the world of editing. Believe me, it's a place none of us want to go, but when I came out I was much happier with my story. I've made some changes, mainly to Cynthia's background, so you might want to go reread at least the first chapter. Otherwise some things in this chapter might not quite make sense to you! Thanks again to **Facades** and **Adelaide Pitman** for the amazing advice and encouragement.

As much as I hated having to force myself to sit down and edit this thing, my editing process entailed spending a lot of time with Ikuto, which, I have to admit, I enjoyed immensely. Ikuto-kun, come say hi to all your fans!

Ikuto: ...whatever.

*grabs by collar* Don't just walk away from me! *scratches behind ears*

Ikuto: But I...*purr*

Hehe. All of you fangirls can snap your pictures now.

* * *

_Recap:_

_I set my case on the floor beside me and tried to relax as Ikuto Tsukiyomi tuned his violin. But at that moment, waiting for the first notes of his song, I felt like a jumpy little mouse waiting for the cat to strike._

* * *

It was torture. Pure torture. Sitting in the waiting room, knowing Ikuto and Sanjo-san were just on the other side of the door, but not knowing what they were talking about, I could still hear the melodies from Ikuto's audition piece in my head.

"Hey, you were pretty good," said a voice from across the coffee table.

I lifted my head from my hands to meet Utau's icy stare.

"You've got some nerve coming here and ruining my chances of singing with Ikuto," she said.

I couldn't stop the smirk from spreading over my face. "It doesn't surprise me that you would stoop to eavesdropping through the door. So you think I played better than Ikuto did, Utau?"

I could tell she wanted to spit. "You have no more right to call me by my first name than you have to even breathe the same air as Ikuto."

"Well, I refuse to be called 'you,'" I fired back. "My name is Cynthia North, and it very well may benefit you to remember that."

"Well then, _Cynthia_." I could swear she was praying for lightning bolts from heaven to strike me down right then and there. "Ikuto will never be equaled."

"Maybe not," I admitted, returning my head to my hands and wallowing in hopeless surrender. "He was incredible."

Utau sneered. "It's in our blood, I guess. We cannot be beaten."

_Our blood?_ Were they related? That would make the way she had hung all over him even more scandalous. I looked up at her suddenly, my train of thought catching me by surprise. "You're afraid."

"What?" she demanded.

"Why couldn't I see it before?" I shook my head and smiled. "You're not just power-hungry. You're afraid of being beaten. You're afraid to sing with anyone _but_ Ikuto. And you're jealous."

"Of you? Don't make me laugh!"

I continued to smirk. "You're afraid I'm going to keep Ikuto away from you, in one way or another."

"Shut up!" she demanded. "Since when do you have the right to say you're better than him? You think you've already won."

"I do not claim to be a better violinist than Ikuto Tsukiyomi. But I do believe that I am good enough to win this fight."

"We'll soon see," Utau said, shifting her gaze to a spot behind me.

At the click of the door, I wheeled around to see Sanjo-san poke her head out of the audition room. "North-san, please join us," she said.

I quickly stood up, taking my violin with me. I certainly didn't put it past Utau to sabotage my beautiful instrument. Even as I walked back into the dark audition room, I could feel Utau's eyes burning two holes in the back of my head.

"Please," Sanjo-san said, waving to an empty chair as she closed the door behind her. I grudgingly sat, though the chair was much closer to Ikuto than I cared to be at the moment.

"Thank you_,_" I said with a fake smile. Ikuto gave me a little grin, but I had no way to tell if it was a real smile or a triumphant smirk. I did not smile back. _See how _you_ like the cold shoulder._

Sanjo-san sat across from us and folded her hands on top of the table. "I'll get right to it, then. North-san, your classical training shines through, and your playing is more precise. The sound that you produce is flawless and emotional." I cheered silently. "However," _Drat._ "Ikuto-kun, learning on his own, has become well versed in modern music. He also has greater stage presence, and I have reason to believe he'll be very popular with Utau-chan's large female fan base."

At this comment, I couldn't help but hide my giggles and steal a glance at Ikuto, who refused to let his face show any sign of emotion. How like a statuesque, lackadaisical cat.

"I have discussed the arrangements in detail with Ikuto-kun," Sanjo-san continued, "and I've decided that you will be our recording violinist, and he will play in our live concerts." She stood and smiled. "Cynthia North, welcome to Black Diamond."

I grinned back and stole another sideways glance at Ikuto, who didn't look altogether thrilled. "Thank you very much, Sanjo-san."

Sanjo-san led the way to the door. "I'll see you at tomorrow night's concert. Ikuto-kun will be performing, so he can show you the ropes." She glanced at her watch and worry etched her face. "I'm late for a meeting, so I can't show you around the studio. Ikuto-kun, would you give her the tour?"

Ikuto, still seated in his chair, reluctantly stood up, not even bothering to fake a smile. "Sure thing, Yukari-san."

Sanjo-san clapped her hands together. "Great. I'll see you both tomorrow."

With that, she was gone.

Ikuto slowly looked over at me and grinned. "It's just you and me, then, Cynthia."

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Please R&R!!! I would appreciate it _so_ much if you told me whether you like the new direction I'm taking with this story.

Are you still taking pictures? You should be. Ikuto fell asleep in my lap - how adorable is that? Yeah, he's a tough character to deal with, but he warms up to you after a while. He's more of a lapcat than my _real_ cat!


	5. Faith and Expectation

Hi everyone! So here it is - the fifth chapter. I've done a lot of soul-searching to discover where I want to go with this story, and-

"Oh, please. You just called all your little writer-friends asking for help."

Augh. Ikuto!

"What? I'm just making sure you give credit where it's due. For example, to me."

*Rolls eyes* Yeah, yeah, sure. You were a lot of help, sitting around in my room eating my chocolate.

"You wouldn't even have this story without me."

That's...true...

"Ha."

_Anyway... _I worked really hard on this chapter, so I hope you enjoy! Please R & R!

_

* * *

__Recap:_

_Ikuto slowly looked over at me and grinned. _

_"It's just you and me, then, Cynthia."_I flinched a little – he had left the honorific off my name. Well, after all, I had done that to him. I shouldn't have been bothered by it. But I was.

**

* * *

**

Even when I refused to answer, he smiled. "Come on," he said like a little kid leading a grand, imaginary adventure. He led me outside the audition room and motioned for quiet as we sneaked down a hallway that looked like it led nowhere. As we crept further into the shadows, I thought I saw a pair of cat ears pop out of Ikuto's head. I shook my head and blinked, dismissing it as a trick of the shadows or of my imagination. Still, I couldn't help but giggle.

Ikuto stopped suddenly, and in the slow motion sequence that followed, I bumped into his back, and the weight of my violin case in one hand knocked me off balance. I despaired as the case slipped out of my hand. Before I could achieve the full satisfaction of falling over backwards, though, Ikuto had somehow caught me and my case, all while still keeping his own case strapped safely to his back.

"Careful there," he said, annoying me with his grin. "If you crack your head open on the concrete, you'll give away our position."

I quickly helped myself up and snatched my violin case out of Ikuto's gentle grip. He wouldn't let me forget for an instant that he was a violinist, respecting my instrument even if he wouldn't respect me.

"I just saved your life," he said, bending over so his face was only inches away from mine. "Aren't you going to praise me?"

Unfounded anger bubbled up in my gut until I was more than ready to mouth him off. "Ikuto, I swear, I'll k-" And then the cat had the audacity to cover my mouth with his spotless, ladylike hand. It was all I could do to restrain myself from biting his fingers off.

After smirking for a moment, he peeled his fingers from my face. "If you want the truth," he whispered, "I don't trust anybody in this whole place. All of them are bloodsucking, spineless cowards who wouldn't hesitate to kill me in order to save their own hides."

"Then why do you work for them?" I hissed back.

"I have no choice," he said, piercing my heart with the honesty in his clear blue eyes. After holding my glance for a few seconds, he reached up. Lanky as he was, he could touch the ceiling without even standing on tiptoe, and he now slid aside a panel in the ceiling, revealing a hidden cubby. He slid the violin from his back and carefully thrust it into the sanctum. He faced me again.

"Nobody on earth knows about this place," he whispered, half-excited and half-uneasy. "My violin is my most prized possession; I don't know how I'd survive if any of these Easter rats got a hold of it." Ikuto held out his hand. "Your violin will be safe here."

My instinct was to pull away. I'd only just met Ikuto today, so how did I know if I could trust him? Even so, he had trusted me enough to show me his secret hideaway. And I knew – I could even tell from the way he played – that he treasured his instrument. As if reading my mind, he spoke again.

"I will protect your violin as if it were my own."

Something in his voice demanded that I meet his eyes. If this were a romance story, I would have taken his outstretched hand and flown away with him into the sunset. But this is a tale of friends and enemies, of jealousy and redemption. And what I placed in Ikuto's hand was much more precious to me than my own hand. I gave him my violin, my dearest possession, and with it, my trust.

* * *

Later that night, I lay on my hotel bed, staring up at the ceiling. I traced a map of the Easter building in the air with my finger once more before rolling onto my side, but even then I couldn't fall asleep. I couldn't help but wonder if it was a good idea to give my trust so openly to Ikuto. But after I had, he had only done everything he could to prove he deserved it.

After storing my violin with as much gentility and caution as a mother with a helpless child, Ikuto had secured the cubby and shown me around the entire Easter building, or at least the floor we were on. He had made a point of showing me all the "authorized personnel only" doorways and blocked-off passages, without revealing his motive. Perhaps so I would know where I wasn't allowed, but more likely so I could help him break into these rooms if need be. Had he known I would see this ulterior motive and interpret it as a gesture of trust? I'll never know. I shook my head as I remembered it, knowing I was reading way too much into Ikuto's every move.

I rolled over and put my hand beneath my head, trying my hardest to clear my mind. But for the first time in months, my brain was working so hard that sleep was shut out. I was so confused. Ikuto had been so cold to me earlier, but was that just because Sanjo-san was watching? Maybe he was just "getting in the zone" for his audition. I couldn't tell. One thing was for sure: Ikuto had more mood swings than a pregnant lady. So why did my gut say to trust him? Was I that desperate for someone, _anyone_ to give my absolute trust?

I was angry with myself for being so pathetic, but I told myself it made sense. For years I had kept my innermost passion hidden from everyone, and now I was in a foreign country where I knew absolutely no one, and I had discovered someone who shared my passion. I buried my face in the pillow, blocking out the dim glow from the streetlights, which shone through the weathered curtains. I had to rest up for my orientation tomorrow. I groaned inwardly. With my luck, Ikuto would be showing me around the school, too.

* * *

As always, your thoughts and advice are appreciated! Hopefully it won't be so long until I update next. I'm going on a trip for Easter weekend and I have a sneaking suspicion I'll have some extra time to write. *claps hands with joy*


	6. Orientation

I can't believe I'm already up to chapter 6! Thanks again, everyone for reading. Please keep the reviews coming, as your opinions are always encouraging! I'm leaving tomorrow morning for a spring break trip to the International House of Prayer (IHOP) in Kansas City. So, if I don't update for a while, you'll know why. The only downside to this trip is that now Ikuto will have my room all to himself - for an entire week. I can only pray that when I come back everything will still be in one piece!

* * *

_Recap: I buried my face in the pillow, blocking out the dim glow from the streetlights, which shone through the weathered curtains. I had to rest up for my orientation tomorrow. I groaned inwardly. With my luck, Ikuto would be showing me around the school, too._In the morning, I stumbled to the admissions office, still jetlagged after a night of inadequate, infrequent sleep. I picked up my class schedule and, with some difficulty, found my way to my first class: world history. It was just my luck that the other members of the study-abroad program were all either sophomores or seniors, meaning they wouldn't be sharing any of my classes. Not that I was too friendly with any of them, but at least they spoke English. I would be alone in a class of Tokyo natives.

* * *

Once I reached my classroom, I gratefully plopped myself into a desk near the back of the room, sliding my backpack off. As I pulled my textbook out, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around to meet the smiling eyes of a cute girl in pigtails behind me.

"Hi," she said. "Are you Cynthia North-san?"

"Yes," I said. Apparently my arrival wouldn't be a surprise.

"I'm so excited to meet you," she went on. "I'm Airi Okinawa."

I smiled. "Glad to meet you, Okinawa-san."

She giggled. "Please call me Airi-chan."

I found myself laughing, too. "Okay." I turned back around and focused on opening my book to the right unit. Suddenly, a shadow fell over my desk.

"What do you think you're doing?" a loud, deep voice demanded.

I slowly lifted my eyes to meet those of a tough-looking punk with at least half a dozen piercings in his face.

"Excuse me?" I asked.

"You're in my seat," the guy growled.

"Sorry," I said, with no intention of moving. "I was told you didn't have assigned seats at this school."

"We don't," tough-guy said, leaning over me so I could smell his malodorous breath. "But this is _my seat._"

"Takeshi-kun," came the feeble voice of Airi from behind me. "Lay off. She doesn't know where you usually sit."

Takeshi looked at me, blinked a few times, and then seemed to notice for the first time that I wasn't one of his usual classmates. He folded his arms across his chest. "So you're the new girl. South-san, was it?"

I rolled my eyes. How could more than one person have made the same obvious mistake with my name?

"My name is Cynthia North."

"Ooh, feisty, are we?" Takeshi said as a couple of his friends walked in and crowded around me as well.

"Hey, Takeshi, is this the new girl?" asked one.

"Yeah, the American," said the other.

"Come on, say something for us, in English," prodded the first.

A smirk slowly spread over my face. "You guys are a bunch of nosy pushovers," I said, in crystal-clear English.

"Hey!" shouted Takeshi's second friend. "I'm taking English. You think you have the right to talk to us like that?"

I stood up so my eyes were level with his. In English, I replied, "Yes, I do."

The second friend, now red-faced with fury, turned to Takeshi and gave a brief translation of my insult. Takeshi raised a hand to strike me. Airi gasped.

"Why you little-"

"Takeshi, you've been reduced to hitting girls now?"

Takeshi and his two friends immediately turned to face the source of that familiar voice. Ikuto Tsukiyomi stood a few paces in front of my desk.

One of Takeshi's friends drew in a sharp breath. "Tsukiyomi-sama!"

_Sama?_ I thought. What kind of reputation did Ikuto have at this school?

Ikuto shifted his icy gaze from one boy to the next. "Naoki, Yuuta…_scram._"

Takeshi's friends gave their leader a look of pity and scurried out of the room, nodding obsequiously to Ikuto, who stared indifferently ahead. Their behavior was enough to make me a little afraid of Ikuto, too. After all, every time I encountered him, he seemed a different person. As Ikuto stepped forward, Takeshi met his challenger's eyes, putting up a brave front, but even I could smell his fear.

"How about it, Takeshi? Were you going to hit her?"

"Tsukiyomi," Takeshi hissed, "you'd do well to mind your own bus-"

Ikuto slammed a hand on Takeshi's shoulder, pressing so hard that his knuckles turned white, and the tough guy let out a pathetic whimper.

"I've spent the last two weeks saving your butt from being expelled," Ikuto went on through clenched teeth. "This _is_ my business. Is this how you repay me? By destroying your reputation again?"

"Ikuto-sama," Airi whispered, still seated behind me.

Ikuto glanced over at her, then let go of Takeshi's shoulder and lowered his hand to his side. "Find somewhere else to sit."

Takeshi hurried past Ikuto and took a desk in the front row, never looking up.

Satisfied, Ikuto turned to face me, leaning a hand on my desk. "Are you intent on making trouble for me?" he demanded.

I scowled up at him. "I didn't ask you to come swooping in to my rescue. What are you, my official stalker?"

He smiled sarcastically and was about to reply when Sensei stepped into the room.

"All right, class, everyone to your seats," he shouted over the dull roar of the thirty-something students who had now gathered in the room.

I sat down, and Ikuto quickly slipped into the desk beside mine, shrugging off his messenger bag and whipping out his book.

Sensei wrote his name on the board. _Akito Tottori._ "North-san, will you please stand?"

I did as asked and felt all eyes on me.  
"This is Cynthia North, our new exchange student from America. I'll need a volunteer to help her find her way around. If you're interested, see me after class."

A couple of boys a few rows ahead of me whispered to each other, looking back at me underhandedly. I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I sat back down. The stupid uniform skirt was too short for my liking and was granting me the wrong kind of attention.

Tottori-sensei picked up his textbook and began to saunter down the aisles of seats. "Last night you finished Unit 8 which, remember, we're having an exam over on Monday."

Today was Friday. I mentally wiped my brow in relief, because Unit 8 was American history, which I happened to know a thing or two about. I would have plenty of time to brush up over the weekend, too.

"In the section review," Tottori went on, "question five was a little tricky. Did any one get the answer to that one?"

I glanced over the question, pulling out my Japanese-English dictionary. The question asked something about the Civil War, but there was a word I didn't know.

"Very good, Chiba-san."

Shoot. While I was looking up the Japanese word for _destruction_, someone else had already answered the question. I blew a strand of hair from my face. This was going to take some getting used to.

By now, Tottori-sensei had gone back to question one and was ambling down the aisle separating Ikuto and me. "Come on, no volunteers?" he asked. "How about you, Tuskiyomi-san?"

Ikuto, who appeared totally unconcerned, replied, "I didn't get that one."

Tottori narrowed his eyes, taking another step and stopping just short of Ikuto's desk. "Did you even do your homework, Tsukiyomi-san?"

Ikuto lazily leaned back in his chair and put his arms behind his head. "No, sir."

"Come to think of it, you haven't turned in any homework all week, have you?"

I could hear Airi nervously chomping on her nails behind me, but Ikuto remained dead calm. "No, sir."

Tottori turned to regard me for a moment, then swiveled back to confront Ikuto again. "Have you met North-san?"

"Yes, we've me-"

"Good. You just volunteered to be her personal tour guide for the rest of the day."

As Tottori stroked back up the aisle, spouting off question two, I looked over to smile at Ikuto, relieved I'd be paired with someone I already, more or less, knew. But Ikuto looked completely despondent and refused to meet my eyes. His expression slapped the grin off my face and replaced it with a scowl of my own. If it was up to me, I'd see him strung up by that blue hair of his. I focused my negative energy on the textbook in front of me, certain that Ikuto would, indeed, regret spending the day with me.

* * *

Again, please R&R! Comments, positive or negative criticisms, and compliments on my wonderful writing skills are all welcome! *wink*


	7. Sticks and Stones

Hi everyone! Bet you thought I was never coming back. Life has just been speeding on, and it's been all I could do to keep up with it. So it looks like I'll finally have more time to write for a good, long while now. I want to thank everyone for their helpful reviews, especially **Adelaide Pitman** and **Facades**. Facades, I promise, I'm still planning to reply to your last review. Like I said, I really needed to take a break from FF for a while, but now that I'm back, I'm back in full swing. I've finally decided exactly where I'm going with this story, and I'm really excited to see how it plays out. I hope you enjoy! R&R please!

* * *

_Recap: Ikuto looked completely despondent and refused to meet my eyes. His expression slapped the grin off my face and replaced it with a scowl of my own. If it were up to me, I'd see him strung up by that blue hair of his. I focused my negative energy on the textbook in front of me, certain that Ikuto would, indeed, regret spending the day with me._After class, it took me a few minutes to finish my notes and pack up. Airi said goodbye, and Ikuto waited for me, not acing very patient. I yanked out the piece of paper with my class schedule and locker number on it and placed it on my desk before bending over to zip up my backpack. When I sat up again, Ikuto had my schedule in his hand and was perusing it thoughtfully.

* * *

"Hey," I started. "Wha-"

"That's weird," Ikuto mused. "You have all the same classes as me, except here."

I looked over his shoulder and saw that his finger lay on the block marked "Music Theory." How strange. He was a serious musician, yet he wasn't taking any music classes at school?

Ikuto stood up, still holding my schedule, and walked to the door. "Come on," he said with a lazy shrug. "I'll help you find your locker."

Not wanting him to wander off and leave me abandoned without my schedule, I had no choice but to hurry behind him. The going was tough, because my backpack was immensely heavy, not to mention the fact that Ikuto's legs were much longer than mine. Only a few yards out of the classroom, Ikuto looked back to find me panting, struggling to keep up. He bridged the gap between us in one long stride.

"Do you have _all_ your books in there?"

Embarrassed, I nodded.

Ikuto closed his eyes to keep me from seeing them roll, and then reached out his hand. "Trade you."

Next thing I knew, he was walking again, having slung my backpack onto his shoulder as if it were nothing, while I trotted alongside with his much lighter messenger bag.

We walked on in silence, attracting stares that made me look down and shuffle my feet. Ikuto, it seemed, wither couldn't have cared less or didn't even notice the kids staring at us. He stopped in front of a locker and entered the combination.

"Here's your locker." Ikuto let my backpack fall on the floor next to me and lifted his own bag from my shoulder. "Now dump some of those books before your bag crashes through the floor."

I nodded and quickly began my task, but then I froze when my train of thought took a sudden turn. "How'd you know my combination?"

He smirked. "You have a four-digit number written on your left hand. It wasn't that hard to figure out."

Without another word, he crossed the hallway to his own locker, leaving me to sort out my books. Only half-absorbed in my work, I managed to pick up a couple of voices across the sea of students flooding the hall.

"Tsukiyomi!"

"Hey, Seichi-kun."

I looked over my shoulder, trying to find the source of the familiar voice amidst the crowd, curious whom Ikuto was talking to.

"I heard you got stuck with the new girl," said his friend. "Bummer."

Ikuto threw a glance in my direction, and for a split second our eyes met. I quickly turned back to my locker, heat rising to my face. Wondering what Ikuto would say in reply, I quickly closed my locker and studied the floor.

Luckily for the silent Ikuto, Seichi changed the topic. "You have to work tonight, huh?"

"Yeah," Ikuto answered.

"Aw, man. You're too much of an adult." I surreptitiously peeked over my shoulder to see Seichi playfully punch Ikuto on the arm. "See if you can get your boss to lighten the load. You are still a kid, after all."

Ikuto offered a half-smile that was gone as soon as it had come.

"And besides," Seichi added, "I want our Friday nights back, yo. Catch you at lunch, okay?"

"Sure," Ikuto murmured as Seichi turned to walk to his next class.

The crowd in the hall had thinned by now. Ikuto turned to look at me as I picked up my now much lighter backpack and crossed the hallway to stand next to him, still staring at the ground.

"Sorry," he said.

My head snapped up at his unexpected change in attitude.

"For what Seichi said about you, I mean," Ikuto finished.

I shrugged my shoulders and started walking down the hall. "Sticks and stones, right?"

"That's not what you really think, is it, Cynthia?"

Ikuto's words froze me in my tracks. I felt a breeze as he brushed past me and turned left. "Come on," he said, waving my schedule. "The chemistry room's this way."

Numbly, I lifted my feet to follow him.

Mere hours later, I stood on the verge of a great, throbbing mass of students. The telltale scent of rice balls and bento boxes tickled my nose, and the cacophony of countless Japanese conversations teased my brain. My mind was so overcome that it tried to translate all the bits and pieces it took in, and in the end, what I understood was, "Your mother's dog swam in my orange homework hair." I strained my eyes and ears for any sign of my English-speaking traveling companions but found none.

I looked up at Ikuto with the eyes of a scared rabbit. I hadn't ever particularly enjoyed his company before, but now how I gloried in it! He was the one person I knew, the one Japanese voice I could zero in on and understand. Though I had hardly known him for more than a day, now I felt as if he were my lone soul mate in a sea of absolute strangers. I stared at the shock of blue hair that fell into his face, prepared to go where he bid. As he opened his mouth to speak, I leaned in, ready to hang on every word he said.

"I'm out of here."

The noise of the cafeteria flooded my ears again as Ikuto's voice died.

"What?" I demanded.

"I'm going to find Seichi. You're on your own here. I'll see you after lunch." Without so much as an encouraging smile, he turned and walked away, leaving me alone and helpless in an unsolvable, ear-splitting maze.

I gingerly waded ankle-deep in the Japanese sea, straining my eyes for a single empty table. Maybe I could sit alone and start studying for that test…

"Cynthia-chan! Over here!"

Airi's voice interrupted my thoughts, and I eagerly turned toward it, like a drowning man grasping a life preserver. But as I walked to Airi's table, I saw that there was a snake clinging to my lifesaver as well.

"Oh. It's you," said Utau Hoshina.

* * *

Cliffhanger, huh? I love writing those. It makes me feel like I'm getting back at all those authors who leave ME hanging at the end of a chapter - or even at the end of a book in some cases! Oh, and for those of you who were wondering, I arrived home from Kansas City to find Ikuto acting the perfect angel. There were only a few claw marks on my furniture, and only half of my Easter chocolate was missing...hehe.


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